


Unexpected Turn of Events.

by Pixiemixieheart



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Fluffy?, Gift Fic, I'm just trying to make TRF feel better about having to work long shifts tbh, M/M, friend fic, funny?, i don't even know tbh, sorry no smut, there shall be smut in the other friendfic ;P
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 09:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5961829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixiemixieheart/pseuds/Pixiemixieheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm just trying to make TRF feel better about having to work long shifts tbh :D Not quite Doreal yet... but you know, there's potential ;P</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Turn of Events.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Real_Fenris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Real_Fenris/gifts).



> So yes. I totally made myself your best friend because I can :D silly little one shot hoping to cheer you up a little after having to work long shifts :D Don't get too excited, there's no smut :P that will happen in the other friend fic (which I promise to update as soon as this damn writers block decides to leave me alone) Also, I haven't written anything in AGES so be gentle whilst I get my groove back. Also, Dorian is REALLY hard for me to write but by golly I am nothing if not determined! :D 
> 
> I SHIP DOREAL WOOOOOO!! *flails arms and waves pom poms* OTP! OTP! OTP! :D
> 
> KISSIES AND HUGS! :D

Michael ran his fingers through his dishevelled blonde hair in a vain attempt to get it resembling how he’d styled it that morning. Undoubtedly, this had been one of the hardest shifts he’d endured since he’d qualified as a nurse and began working at Andraste’s Heart Hospital a month ago.

From the second he stepped through the revolving doors of the large building, it became obvious that this was going to be an exhausting day. Barely through said doors, his superior shoved a bunch of charts into his hands and informed him there’d been a pile up on the Interstate, then promptly rushed off with firm instructions to get to work without delay.

Eleven hours into his shift and the Emergency Room was only just starting to settle back down to normal. All worried family members had made their way home and all of the most urgent cases, dealt with. Patients that needed to be admitted had been processed and transferred to their wards leaving only those with minor injuries to be tended to.

By some Maker given miracle, no one had died in the collision that morning, no doubt thanks to the efforts of all emergency service professionals. Michael was proud what he did for a living. He loved working on the front lines, knowing that what he did truly made a difference.

Exhausted, he walked toward the Store Room to find a sling for _yet another_ broken arm. Opening the door he paused mid-step when saw his friend Pixie (rather conspicuously) hiding inside.

“Okay, so who are you hiding from and what did you do this time, Pix?” Michael asked with a with a knowing look, squeezing past her in the small room and reaching to the top shelf to retrieve the sling.

“What makes you think I’m hiding from anyone? I was uh…looking for….this! Yep! This is what I was looking for...Yayyy I found it!”

“A proctoscope?” Michael asked, deadpan. “for one of the car accident patients?”

Maker was Pixie terrible at lying.

“Would you believe me if I said, yes?” She asked,

“What do you think?”

“Okay fine. So maybe I made a mistake and called Doctor Anders, Doctor Yummybutt...” she admitted, sighing dejectedly “...to his face.”

Michael’s eyes widened for a moment before he burst out laughing. It was a good minute before he was able to compose himself enough to regain his composure.

“It’s not funny, Michael.” She said, pouting a little. “What am I supposed do now? I’m meant to go treat his patient in exam room two...What if he’s still in there...”

Michael attempted to school his expression into something resembling concern but the effort was useless. This was far too entertaining to be able to feign anything other than amusement convincingly.  

“Oh, come on. You have to admit, it is a little bit funny.”

Pixie glared…the effect somewhat diminished by the proctoscope she still held in her hand.

 “Okay, okay. Sorry. Tell you what, you go take this sling to Doctor Rutherford’s patient in exam room seven and I will take over yours. Does that help?”

Pixie’s pout disappeared instantly and she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist in a much too overenthusiastic hug (nothing out of the usual, for her though.)

“Ooomph, so that’s a yes?”

“Yes! You are the BESTEST friend EVER, Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she exclaimed, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Good.”

Pixie released him and took the sling from his hand, turning back to face Michael just before opening the door.

“Oh, by the way...You’re welcome.” She added with a wink. “Oooo. Maybe If I’m lucky Doctor Rockhardbutt is still in the exam room with your patient.”

With that, she darted out of the room, leaving Michael quite literally face palming.

_Maker, Pix...will you ever learn?_

He shook his head at her antics. It was a miracle that she hadn’t had at least one sexual harassment complaint yet. Sure, she wasn’t daft enough to _actually_ grab anyone’s butt whilst at work but she did have a tendency to let her mouth run away with her before actually thinking of the consequences.

Arriving at Exam room two he took the patient chart from the door before knocking and stepping inside, perusing the information.

_Dorian Pavus, 35, no known allergies, sprained wrist, laceration to the forehead just above his left eye, administer Paracetamol via IV and Diclofenac..._

“Well, it appears to be my lucky day. What happened to the excitable young lady with the non-existent filter?”

“She had other duties to attend to.” Michael answered still looking at the chart “My name is Michael and I’ll be taking over, are you...” Michael’s eyes widened momentarily when he eventually looked up and saw the magnificent man sitting on the exam table.

Mr Pavus was GORGEOUS. Tanned golden skin, jet black hair and grey eyes that you could get lost in for hours. An immaculately styled moustache that...

“Poor dear, I do hope she doesn’t get into too much trouble.“

Clearing his throat, Michael tried to regain some semblance of professionalism as he tried really hard not to stare.

“Trouble is Pixie’s middle name. She’ll be fine though, don’t worry. In any case I assure you that I am very capable at what I do. So she’s left you in good hands.”

“Oh, of _that_ I have no doubt. Your hands do appear rather... _capable_ indeed.”

Michael swallowed thickly.

_Well, I’m  fucked..._

The glorious man lift his uninjured hand and started unbuttoning his designer (Ralph Lauren, by the looks of it) shirt.

“Wait what are you doing?” Michael asked, taking an instinctive step forward.

 The man’s fingers faltered on the second top button.

“ I am attempting to divest myself of my shirt before it is ruined. Ugh…If you would be so kind?” The man glanced up at Michel through dark eyelashes. “This task is a little fiddly with only one hand, I’m afraid.”

Michael stopped breathing for a moment when he caught a glimpse of dark, flawless skin through the open collar. Dorian was simply stunning....It was a miracle Michael was able to speak at all after being on the receiving end of a look like that. Still, Michael was first and foremost a nurse, he absolutely couldn’t in good conscience allow this man to remove his clothing unnecessarily.

“Mr Pavus, that won’t be necessary. I am perfectly able to treat you whilst you are fully clothed.”

“Please, tell me you’re joking.” Dorian asked, positively aghast. “Do you know how much this shirt cost?”

“As a matter of fact. Yes, I do. But..”

“Oh thank the Maker. I thought you were serious for a moment there.” Dorian laughed “Now, do be a darling and help me take this off.”

_I am a bad, bad man...._

Michael took a few steps forward standing between Dorians legs, keeping a respectable distance and placing the chart in his hands on the examining table.  Doing his best to appear clinical in his approach, he promptly and methodically unbuttoned the expensive shirt until it was removed in its entirety, revealing a smooth, toned chest beneath.

_Fuck...._

Unable to help himself, Michaels gaze travelled across the man’s collar bone, down his chest, further down those gloriously defined abs, over a hint of a hip bone peeking out from just above....

 “Like what you see, do you?” Dorian asked.

Startled, and unsure how to reply, Michael looked away and hastily took the cannula from the exam table, attempting (rather unsuccessfully) to regain his composure.

“May I have your hand, Mr Pavus?” He asked, refusing to look at the man’s face lest he blush even more than he already was.

“My, don’t you move fast. I think perhaps we should at least have Dinner before you ask for my hand though, yes?” Dorian smirked. “And do call me Dorian, Please. I insist,”

“Alright...Dorian.”

“There, that wasn’t so hard was it?”

Michael’s lips twitched involuntarily at the corners.

“Not at all. ” Heart beating hard in his chest, he took Dorian’s uninjured hand in his, examining it to find a viable vein in which to fit the cannula.  

“You’ll just feel a small scratch.” He said as he pricked the skin and slid the device in without an issue, removing the needle, leaving only the thin plastic tube inside. 

“Maker, that’s remarkable. That wasn’t painful in the slightest. That settles it. Your fingers must be magic.” Dorian said as Michael affixed the dressing to keep the cannula in place.

“I can neither confirm nor deny rumours about my fingers being magic.”Michael answered, a half smile already forming on his lips “Though I will say you are not the first to tell me my fingers are magic.. Perhaps not quite under these circumstances, however.”

_Dammit, Michael. Rule number one.  Don’t flirt with the patients...You are not Pixie._

Mentally face palming at the slip up, Michael continued about his duties with renewed determination. Taking a deep breath, he removed the IV line from its sterile packaging and inserted one end into the bottle of paracetamol that hang on the drip stand. It wasn’t easy keeping a calm demeanour whilst practically feeling Dorian’s eyes on him as he worked. He hoped that at least, he was doing a successful job of not giving away how much the man actually affected him. Forcing his thoughts back to the task at hand, Michael then released the roller on the IV line, allowing some of the liquid to flow through to the end, mindful there were no bubbles in the tube before closing it again.  By the time he’d flushed the cannula with saline and screwed on the IV line it had taken him perhaps two minutes, all told.

“So what do you do for fun, Michael?”

The question took the blonde a little by surprise and he stalled for a moment, saline solution packet in his hand ready to wash the minor laceration on Dorian’s brow.

“I write.”  He answered without thinking.

“Oh that’s delightful! I adore reading. Are you published?”

“I am.” He answered, cleaning the wound.

“Anything I may have read?”

“Possibly.” Michael   _finally_ allowed himself the luxury of looking into Dorian’s stunning grey eyes.

Maker, but the man was beautiful.

Dabbing some antiseptic cream along Dorian’s brow with a gloved finger, Michael noted how he’d never before wished he wasn’t wearing gloves whilst treating a patient until this very moment. Dorian’s skin looked so soft and he wondered what it would feel like under his fingertips...his lips...his tongue…

Unable to stop the flurry of inappropriate mental images that his mind conjured up, he rest the tips of his fingers on Dorian’s brow a little longer than strictly necessary, utterly distracted...

_Mmmmm...that would be ...Wait, what am I doing?_

 Forcefully pushing the images out of his mind, Michael took a step back when he realised their faces were barely an inch apart and Dorian was rather unashamedly staring at him.

_Focus, Michael…._

“Alright, Dorian. You’re almost done. If you could just stand for me and turn around I need to give you an anti-inflammatory shot.”

Dorian slid off the table, slowly...deliberately. If Michael didn’t know any better he would swear the man was doing it on purpose to taunt him. As soon as Dorian’s feet hit the floor he took a step forward right into Michaels personal bubble. Smirking deliciously, he turned around and leant forward slightly, gripping the examination table with his uninjured hand, head turned slightly to he left so that he could look at the blonde out of the corner of his eye.

_Sweet  Maker..._

Steeling his nerves, Michael gripped the top of Dorian’s trousers and lowered it a little to administer the shot.

“You shouldn’t feel the prick too much unless you tense up, but the liquid is a bit thick so it might feel a little uncomfortable as it goes in.”

_The fuck did I just say?...._

Dorian laughed heartily, the tension that had been thick enough to cut with a knife dissipating completely.

“Ah...Sorry, I should have probably phrased that a little better.” Michael chuckled, administering the shot as gently as possible.

“Not to worry. You are not the first man to have said that to me....Perhaps not quite in these circumstances, however.” Dorian said, repeating what Michael had told him only a little while earlier.

_Well, shit..._

Blushing a little and clearing his throat, Michael disposed of the syringe in the appropriate bin.

“Yes, well. You’re all done. I’ll just remove that for you now and you’re all set to go home.”Michael took Dorian’s hand, pressing hard on the vein as he slipped the cannula out and placed a small band aid over the puncture wound.

“So that’s it?” Dorian asked.

“Indeed. The Doctor signed off on everything. You’re free to go home whenever you want. Do you need me to call you a Taxi?”

Dorian glanced down at his hand, experimentally closing his fist and then opening it before looking back up at Michael.

“Perish the thought. I abhor Taxi’s. I’ll manage somehow, not to worry.”

“Alright. Well, It’s almost time for me to head home as well sooo..” Michael stood somewhat uncertainly, not quite wanting to leave but mindful that there was no reason for him to stay. Perhaps he could...

 “Yes, yes.“ Dorian turned away from him, waving his good hand dismissively.

Whatever Michael had been expecting, it hadn’t been this. Feeling somewhat foolish at being dismissed so casually, Michael lift his head up proudly and walked out the room without even so much as a glance back.

What the hell had he even expected? He was a nurse and Dorian had been his patient. Nothing more. Sure he was gorgeous and there had undoubtedly been flirting but that meant nothing. Probably less than nothing, to even think....

_Ugh!..._

Walking into the locker room he froze on the spot, trail of thought completely forgotten for the moment.

“Ah...This is unexpected...” He remarked, looking at the somewhat curious scene before him.

Doctor Anders quickly stepped away from Pixie, fidgeting nervously with his hands like a child who’d just been caught with his hands in the proverbial cookie jar.

“Nurse Michael. This isn’t what it looks like...”

Michael raised an eyebrow.

“Soooo you were _not_ just kissing my best friend and she was _not_ just grabbing your butt?”

Pixie giggled.

“Ah, yes well....then maybe it is what it looks like.”

Shaking his head and chuckling, Michael walked to his locker, opened it and took out his back pack.

“Mhmm, have fun Doctor Yummybutt.” He said winking at his friend. “Details later, Pix.”

“Well, duh...” She answered, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

As Michael made his way out of the hospital, he couldn’t help but laugh. Maker, Pix was a lucky girl. Doctor Anders was gorgeous. Not quite as gorgeous as Dorian though...not that it mattered, it was too late to do anything about that particular situation anyway. Why hadn’t he just asked the man out? Although, really having been dismissed like..

“Finally!”

_What..._

“Dorian?” Michael’s brow furrowed  when he saw the object of his musings standing outside the hospital doors, wearing an entirely too thin coat for the cold weather this time of year. “Is there a reason you’re standing outside in the snow? You’re going to catch a cold wearing just that by the way.”

“You left me quite at a disadvantage you know.” Dorian said, walking right up to him “Have you any idea how frustrating it was having to button my shirt up on my own? For that reason alone I should have refused to wait, but I am not an unreasonable man. I should also mention that if I have caught my death whilst I was waiting for you to finish your shift, there is no force in Thedas or the fade that will stop me from returning as a ghost and haunting you.”

Michael blinked.

“Waiting for me? I don’t understand...”

Dorian rolled his eyes dramatically.

“I believed we settled on Dinner before you asked for my hand again. I see no point in waiting, do you?”

_Dinner?_

“Uh...I’m not dressed for dinner....”

Dorian made a show of inspecting Michael, walking around him whilst lightly trailing his fingers across the blonde’s shoulders.

“Hm. You make a valid point. Pity, you would look good enough to eat, in a suit.” Sighing Dorian added. “For now, we will have to make do with coffee, then. Dinner will have wait until Friday, I suppose.”

Michael smiled at the unexpected (and welcome) turn of events. Noting how Dorian tried (and failed) not to shiver from the cold, Michael decided to throw caution to the wind and wrapped an arm around the dark haired man’s shoulders pulling him close against his side.

“Sounds like a plan. My car’s this way.”

**Author's Note:**

> I should mention, that the butt shot scene totally happened to me with this rather yummy male nurse at the hospital not too far back.... Just imagine how my brain run away with me after that comment... (which, by the way, he said word for word O.O...Funnily enough I don't even think he even realized what he said and probably just wondered why the fuck i was red as a beetroot....though I suppose not everyone has their mind in the gutter like I do.... lol )


End file.
